Resist this: I take on La Resistance, sort of
by The Anonymous Enigma
Summary: Warning: Don't read if you like them, Ms. Long [I think it's a dude], or Bischoff. I don't hate all French people, just them. I messed up Rene's name on purpose. I plan on making this a saga. If you have ideas, include them in review. No flamers wanted.
1. Prologue

I AM WHO YOU ARE NOT.

I DO WHATEVER IT IS THAT YOU DON'T.

I'M THE ONE PERSON YOU DON'T WANT TO MESS WITH.

I'M THE GUY YOU BUMP INTO AS YOU WALK DOWN THE STREET. 

THIS IS WHO I AM;

I AM ANONYMOUS

Rene Dupre still wasn't over being in the WWE. He had been waiting for this for a long time, and it had finally happened. He was more than proud to be part of _La Resistance_. He and his friend, Genier, were more than un-American, and even more than proud of it. He knew the viewers and people present hated him, but they weren't the ones being paid to voice their opinions and back them up. Little did he know that that night, another ordinary episode of RAW, would be the worst night of his life, and almost the last...


	2. Beginning

Scott Steiner swung his arms back and forth as he waited for his music to start. He'd already heard that Harvard bitch go down to the ring, much to the booing of the fans. A few seconds later, he heard his own voice loudly amplified.

"HOLLA, IF YA HEAR ME!" The police siren started, and the fans started cheering loudly. He walked up the steps, pushed aside the small curtain, and walked out into the large arena.

He had never been able to get over walking down the ramp and heading to the ring, and listening to the masses cheer for _him_. This was what sort of gave him the flow of adrenaline, and made him want to perform well that night. He had no intentions of letting these people down. He curled his arm and showed off the bicep, and kissed it in his own little vain way of showing off. Chris Nowinski shifted nervously and scratched his ass.

Steiner walked up the steel steps and into the ring, only to be attacked by Nowinski. He shrugged the little bitch off of him, and grabbed his arm. Throwing him against the ropes, he clotheslined him. Nowinksi was down before the music had gone off. Steiner picked him back up, and prepared to put him in his body press, but decided to taunt him a little. He threw him into the turnbuckle, and started doing push-ups. The fans loved this stuff. So did he.

But then he heard that stupid voice. "Hold on, Steiner." Grenier said in his broken English. The crowd instantly started booing the two French people. "You see, you _Americans_," he sneered, "are so easy to trick. You see, you people ignore the smart people in this business and go straight for the one with the most muscles." The fans boos grew louder.

"You want me? You think you can take me on? Get your French ass down here, bitch!" His voice was lost among the fans.

"Hold on, Steiner. We're not finished." Grenier said. "I want to say--"

"SHUT UP, YOU FRENCH DUMB-ASS." A voice blared out of a several speakers in the arena.

"King, what'd you do?" JR said, looking at King.

"Don't ask me, I didn't do it." King said. "Looks like we got Uncle Sam in here."

"Who's doing that?" Dupre screamed into the microphone.

"I SAID SHUT UP." The fans laughed at the Frenchmen, who felt like 2 small child being told a lesson by an adult. "WHO WANTS TO KNOW WHO I AM?"

"I--"

"I WASN'T TALKING TO YOU." The voice interrupted. "WILL ANYONE WHO HATES THESE GUYS LIKE TO KNOW WHO I AM?"

The fans screamed, "YES!"

"I AM WHO YOU ARE NOT. I DO WHATEVER IT IS THAT YOU DON'T. I'M THE ONE PERSON YOU DON'T WANT TO MESS WITH. I'M THE GUY YOU BUMP INTO AS YOU WALK DOWN THE STREET. THIS IS WHO I AM; I AM ANONYMOUS."

The crowd didn't say anything. They'd never heard of this guy before, but couldn't tell if this was someone they already knew or not.

"AND I'M RIGHT BEHIND YOU." He concluded, and the lights of the entire arena went off. The crowd screamed in half-panic, half enthusiasm.

Grenier and Dupre both felt like pissing themselves as they turned around, waiting to see if they could catch a glimpse of the curtain moving and this Anonymous walked in. Dupre heard a thump. 

"Grenier?" He said.

"Vous êtes baisés." He heard a voice say. Then he really pissed himself. It was French for "You're fucked." Then, he heard a dull _thump_, and crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

---

Dupre moaned in pain as he woke up, feeling the huge knot in the back of his head. "I'd suggest staying off your feet for the rest of the night and go to your hotel room. It looks like someone hit you in the back of the head with either a base-ball bat or a monkey-wrench." The on-hand doctor said.

Grenier moaned and sat up on his own stretcher. "We can't. We have a match tonight."

"Well, try to find a way out of it." The doctor said, putting some ice in 2 bags.

"We can't. That co-general manager Steve Austin won't let us do anything." Dupre said. "Fucking American."

"Hey." The doctor said, throwing the bag of ice and hitting Dupre between the legs. "I'm American, and I'm not going to stand here and take that shit in the face. Get your French Asses out of here."

Dupre hobbled out of the room, followed by Grenier. A cameraman waked passed them as they left the room. "Get out of my way." Dupre said, shoving the cameraman aside into another room.

The cameraman watched the 2 wrestlers walk down the hall, and turned into the room with the doctor.

"Are they gone yet?" They heard a whisper in the shadow.

"Yeah." The doctor said.

"Good." The whisper said. The camera guy looked down as the man walked out of the adjacent room. He had been there the whole time. Everyone who was watching the Titration let out a sigh of disappointment that they had not seen the face of the man. But they saw everything from the shoulders down. It was someone big. Someone _very_ big.


	3. Hunting

Kane got up from his pushups, ready for his fight. His mind was reeling, thinking over the person that had knocked out _La Resistance_. He and Rob Van Dam were defending their titles against them that night. If anything, he was glad Austin was back, though. Everyone in the locker rooms had to deal with Bischoff's shit, but not anymore. Austin seemed to be enjoying the ability to stun whomever and whenever he wanted, and had respectfully left Kane to his own devices, only scheduling matches between him and some other helpless victim.

This title shot tonight was all Bischoff's idea. But he didn't care. He was more than ready to kick some French ass, as was RVD. They were devoted patriots, and this would greatly promote their image. He looked at the title belt on his shoulder as he turned down he hall. All the way at the end, was RVD, who was in a puddle of blood. Kane threw his belt down on the ground and ran to his tag team partner.

"SHIT!" Kane screamed. The cameraman backed up a bit as Kane grabbed a steel infrastructure for something, and threw it down on the ground, barely missing RVD.

Al Snow, hearing the commotion, thinking it was a fight, and wanting to get involved, ran down the hall and joined Kane in looking at RVD. "Damn." He muttered under his breath.

"What the hell am I gonna do about the match?" Kane asked, picking up the infrastructure and throwing it down again. "SON OF A BITCH!" He raged.

---

Bischoff smiled in that conniving, annoying way as the camera faded in on him. "Hey, Kane. How's it going? Not to good? Too bad. The match continues as planned, but I've decided to add a bit of a challenge to your match. Instead of a normal tag match, we're going to make this a TLC. You're going to face _La Resistance_," he said with a pathetic French accent. "HHH and Ric Flair," he added a "whoooo" at the end of this. "And Christian Chris Jericho, the 'king of the World'."

Kane laughed at this. He wanted to see Bischoff try to present him a challenge.

"But did I mention the fact that I decided to stretch the rules a bit? Rosey and Jamal want in on this, as do Rico and Steven Richards. So good luck, you might need it."

Kane's smile turned back to its expressionless state. It was going to be a 10-on-1 match, with Tables, Ladders, and Chairs thrown into the Melee. Besides that, he had to find another Tag Team Partner, if only for temporary, to be in this match. Bischoff hated Kane, and wanted to strip him of every title he would ever possess, so he had given him an ultimatum earlier; get a partner for the match, or forfeit your belts as a whole to Grenier and Dupre.

Kane was not about to lose his title without a fight, but had no luck in finding a temporary partner. Jeff Hardy was at the top of his list, but was home with a damaged neck thanks to a Swanton Bomb gone bad.

He sat down in a folded chair, thinking over his options. He was about to decide to go solo like he did last time, until a shadow fell over him.

"Need a partner?" The camera focused on Kane as he looked up at the person.

"Hell yeah." He answered, standing up.

The shadow waited a while before answering. The cameraman was standing so that they hardly saw his arm; which was gigantic. "When the match starts, I'll be there." That was all, and the man disappeared.

Kane watched as the man walked out of the room, silently saying to himself so that the cameraman hardly picked it up. "What the _fuck_ was that?"


	4. Patriotsim

The two US soldiers felt more than honored to sit next to the man who sat between them. He said it was an honor for him, but they were thrilled. Mr. America, who they more than thought was Hulk Hogan, was the man between them. His Captain America mask looked sort of stupid, but they idolized him for his patriotism.

Then they heard the Frenchmen's music playing, and they all jumped out of their seats. They more than hated the two ass-holes, and were itching for a reason to kick their Asses.

"Mr. America." Grenier said. "That was amusing what you did earlier, but now it's time for business."

Lillian Garcia hurried over and handed Mr. America a microphone. "You Frenchies blame the first guy you see for something you brought on yourself." The fans cheered the American Superstar.

"Hold up, Mr. America," Bischoff said, walking out onto the ramp next to _La Resistance_. "I never said you could gain popularity on My show."

"This isn't about popularity, man. This is about patriotism." The fans cheered for the Mr. America.

"Shut up!" Bischoff screamed.

"This is America, dude. I can speak my mind wherever I want." Captain America yelled back.

Just then, Steiner walked out. "Bischoff, who are you? Aren't you an American? Didn't you ever recite the pledge of allegiance?" Was all he could get out before _La Resistance_ ganged up on him.

Austin walked out onto the ramp and quickly did 2 Stone Cold Stunners before they knew what hit them. (To save time, I'll exclude the "what?" parts.) "Bischoff get back to the office before I kick your ass." Bischoff, needless to say, ran off like a baby.

"Mr. America. (Let me just say now I'll exclude the "what?" parts for now) I don't mind if you're here tonight, but I don't care if you get involved in a match tonight either. All I say is, if you think I should let Mr. America do whatever he wants, give me a hell yeah!"

"HELL YEAH!"

Well, I guess that's settled. Want a beer?" Austin asked, holding a beer can up in the air.

Mr. America nodded, smiling.

Austin walked down to the ring, signaling for several beers to be thrown into the ring. Mr. America climbed over the barricade, and jumped up into the ring. Beer flew everywhere like it did at Austin's Beer Bash on May 5th.

"Austin, you'll see me tonight in that TLC." Mr. America said, downing two cans at once the way Austin did, only getting an ounce down his throat.

---

William Regal was glad to be back, and was more than ready for his match that would be soon. His friend, a fellow un-American Lance Storm, were to fight 2 people they weren't told who.

He hid the brass knucks in his tights, and walked out towards the ramp. He heard his music start, and the crowd start booing him. He and Storm made their ways down to the ramp, and Storm grabbed a microphone. "Before I start the match, I just want to address those 2 soldiers there." He said, pointing to the 2 US soldiers from earlier. "You think you're so bad, it makes me sick. Get your Asses out here so we can show what's going to happen to America later on."

The 2 soldiers climbed over the barricade, and made their ways into the ring. The first, Pvt. Jackson, knew he would win in a fight against these two in on-on-one combat, but they were ganging up on him and his friend, Pvt. Hanson. Storm threw the mic away and took the brass knucks Regal handed him.

Regal made his move first, and got a military boot in the gut. Storm, who unfortunately had the brain capacity of a ketchup bottle, moved in on Hanson after Regal fell. Hanson, not thinking clearly, grabbed the flag that Regal had brought into the ring and swung the pole into Storm's gut. Storm dropped like a sack of potatoes, and got a sound kick in the balls after he hit the canvas.

Mr. America's music started playing, and the 2 soldiers looked up at the ramp. Mr. America came out, waving an American flag. After the fans silenced, he started speaking. "You see, you two are perfect examples of what America is. I am honored to know you two fine men." He ran down to the ring and held both their hands up in the air, displaying his pride of the 2 soldiers.

---

Bischoff was watching this in his office, and stared at the cameraman. "What are you looking at? Go to commercial!" He screamed, shoving the camera away.


	5. Preparing

The TLC match was to be starting in about 10 minutes. Grenier heard Dupre moan, and looked over at him as he sat up in bed. "We're about to go on." Grenier said.

"That's it, man." Dupre said in French. "I've had enough of this shit."

"What do you mean?"

"We're supposed to kick ass a bit then get ours kicked. These Americans are on their own agendas. That Anonymous guy knocking me out earlier was not supposed to happen, let alone him even interrupting us. I can't take much more of this stuff. It's all supposed to be fake, but this shit hurts."

"So, that's it? You're just quitting?"

"Fuck yeah. I've heard that _thing_ is teaming up with Kane tonight. Kane! One of the biggest fucking' American patriots in the business! I won't last 3 seconds in that ring with them!"

Just then, Bischoff walked into the locker room. "Well, well, well. If it isn't _La Resistance_. You 2 better win this thing tonight. Dupre you want to quit?" Dupre nodded. "Well, here's the ultimatum. If you 2 win, you stay in the business, and no one touches you and gets away with it. But if you loose, then you're both out looking for jobs." Without saying anything else, Bischoff left the 2 Frenchmen to think it over.

---

Kane stood beside the curtain as he heard the pyros go off. He and his mysterious partner were the only people not in the ring yet. He pushed the small black curtain out of his way and walked down the ramp as everyone got out of the ring for his fire thing.

He stood in the center of the ring, listening for the music.

__

The wonder of the World is gone.

He let his hands drop and the pyros in the turnbuckles ignited. The fans cheered wildly as this happened. He smiled to himself, as he looked at all the fans that were cheering for _him_. He just hoped he would make them happy tonight. Little did he know was that he and his partner would forever change the business...


	6. Entrance

Everyone was waiting to see Anonymous. They had all seen or heard of his presence, and wanted to know who this man -or thing- was.

Everyone silenced as the lights in the entire arena went off, and they looked up as the Titantron it too was pure black. Then they heard the whisper of some voice over the speakers:

__

I am who you are not. I do whatever it is that you don't. I'm the one person you don't want to mess with. I'm the guy you bump into as you walk down the street. This is who I am; I am Anonymous.

Right after that, Rob Zombie's _Dragula_ song started playing about 2 minutes and 32 seconds into the song.

__

Dead I am the dog; hound of hell, you cry.

Devil on you back; I can never die.

Anonymous walked out as the pyros around the ramp ignited, the flames reflecting off of his huge frame. He was huge: his arms were hidden in the sleeves of a trench coat, but were obviously almost as big as, if not bigger, than Steiner's. He was about 7 ft., but did not look entirely too heavy, yet the fans could tell by looking at him he was a near giant. His face was hidden as it was not facing the flames, but the fans could tell he was wearing a mask. The fans, not knowing what he was yet, cheered louder than ever.

The last line kept repeating itself as Anonymous made his way down to the ring. One red light followed him, accenting his face with shadows as he made his way, giving him an even more sinister look. He slid under the ropes, and brushed his trench coat away, and drew a katana as the line repeated itself for the 9th time. When it started on the 10th and final repeat, Anonymous stabbed the blade down towards the canvas, and the turnbuckles ignited as Rob Zombie's voice started the "_DIEEEEEEEEEE!"_ part.

The lights went back on as Anonymous took off his trench coat and handed the katana and coat to someone outside the ring, and stalked around the ring a little bit. His mask was as notable as Kane's: It was covering his entire face, and if you didn't know who it was at first, you would think Kane had a new look. The mask covered his entire face, half of it dark red and the other half black. His eyes were barely visible, and his mouth was completely hidden, similar to Kane's original mask. He had on a black Tank-top, and red/black BDU pants (for those who don't know much of the army, BDU stand for Basic Discharge Uniform [remember the pants the Dudley's wore? Think of those]), and black "gauntlets" with spikes along the sides.

No one was brave enough to be the first to walk into the ring with this guy.

Bischoff walked out onto the ramp, obviously angry with this new person. "Just who the hell do you think you are?" He yelled.

Anonymous' voice was loud enough for even Bischoff to hear. "Do I really need to go over all that again?"

"Well you know what? I quit! I can't handle this anymore! You know what? I don't care what Austin says, but this match is a no-DQ!"

Several people outside the ring started to feel braver after that. Rosey and Jamal were the first. Rosey ran up the steps, and tried to get Anonymous from behind as Jamal attacked from the front. Anonymous rolled to the side, letting Rosey kick Jamal in the face. As Rosey stood still, looking down at his friend whom he had just knocked out, Anonymous ran against the rope and bounced back, clotheslining him as he turned around.

Jericho climbed into the ring after Christian, who had a fire extinguisher. Anonymous took the blast in the face and fell to the ground. Kane ran up into the ring, finally getting the nerve to step in with Anonymous, only to get stopped by HHH and Ric Flair. Jericho applied the Walls of Jericho as several of the others got into the ring, yelling about how they were "going to kick his ass".

Anonymous wasn't even screaming. He was just laying their, his back almost bent in half, and he wasn't affected. Everyone surrounding him stopped and looked at him. He was laughing. "I took yoga, bitch!" 

Jericho didn't know what hit him. He was pulling Anonymous' legs back for a second, and then he was flung forward as Anonymous straightened out his legs. Everyone else ganged up on Anonymous, who still lie upon the canvas.

People flew everywhere as Anonymous retaliated. His arms thrashed, swinging everywhere, sending people across the ring. He jumped on top of a turnbuckle, and splashed several people, taking them down.

After that, all hell broke loose...


	7. Fight pt 1

Kane was taking on everyone who dared to come near him. More and more superstars were running down the ramp do join in the fight. Tommy Dreamer had a Singapore cane, and was going berserk in the fight. D'Lo Brown had one too, and was ready to hit him in the back with it.

Anonymous saw this, and ran over to his trench coat. He pulled his boken (similar to a Singapore cane, which is really called a kendo stick, but is made out of wood rather than bamboo) out, and ran up to Dreamer. Dreamer ducked as the wooden blade was swung at him, and heard D'Lo go down. He nodded to Anonymous, who nodded back and tossed him the boken.

Mr. America, who had sided with Steiner in this fight, was taking apart William Regal and Lance Storm, trying to fight his way to Grenier and Dupre. They were fighting Sgt. Slaughter, who was an even match for both of them combined. The Rock ran down, and quickly started bickering with Christian who let his moniker down, and they quickly started fighting.

Kane went down on a table thanks to HHH and Ric Flair. Randy Orton climbed on top of a turnbuckle and was ready to jump down on him, but was stopped as The Hurricane pulled his legs out from under him. Shawn Michaels climbed on top of the same turnbuckle, and jumped over Kane and kicked Ric Flair. Kevin Nash pulled a sledgehammer out from under the ring as HHH did likewise. HHH looked at Nash, and ran at him with the sledgehammer raised over his shoulder. Nash did the same, and they swung at the same time.

There was an audible _CLANG_ as the two hammer's heads connected. HHH dropped the hammer, his hands taking the full force of both blows. He stumbled back, shaking them. Nash hardly looked effected, and chased after him with a steel chair.

Chris Nowinski, who had been running out here for a reason he couldn't remember, found himself trying to edge away towards the ramp. _Aw, fuck it._ He thought, turned around, and stared Al Snow right in the face.

"Hey, Nowinski, where ya going?" He said. Maven stepped beside him. "You know what? You simply aren't Tough Enough." He said as he and Maven closed in on him.

---

The match wore on. Luckily, the matches before this were few and short. _CSI is going to be cancelled._ Mr. America thought, clotheslining Jamal. Rosey, being the idiot ran at him. Goldberg, who supported Mr. America's opinion, speared him. He went straight through the barricade again, which was quickly blocked by one of the tables.

---

Rodney Mack didn't know what he was doing out there, something about how this was a "white boy" fight.

Theodore Long was out there too, yelling at Rodney to attack Anonymous from behind.

Anonymous heard that. He kicked back, catching Rodney in the gut. Theodore was almost paralyzed with fear, unable to run. "What's your deal?" Anonymous asked him. "You corner yourself, playing the victim, and bullshit about everything. Black People _could_ run for president, but none have tried. White people are _not_ all members of the KKK, Black people are _not_ victims; they victimize themselves more often, and you are _not_ popular!"

Theodore Long pissed himself.

Jazz, who was just trying to look badass, hit Anonymous in the face. "That's right, baby!" She yelled at a cameraman. "He don't scare me!"

"You're one fucked-up bitch!" Anonymous said, raising his fist. Jazz ran away.

Spike somehow ended up in front of Anonymous, with a table between them. They both nodded, and set Theodore Long up for the 3-D. It was the first one Spike ever did, and the most fun event of his entire career (at the time).


	8. Fight pt 2

The fight was still going. All the people that weren't supposed to be in the match had left, the brawl calming down slightly. 2 heavy blows had taken out both Kane and Anonymous to the heads, and all the others were going for the belts.

Kane pulled the energy out from deep inside, waiting to sit up in his Jason-style way. Anonymous, who was right beside him, was sleeping. "On three." Kane said to himself. Anonymous slightly nodded, but went unnoticed. "One," Kane said. "Two," Kane began to pull the strength together. "Three." Both he and Anonymous sat up at the same time.

"Nice timing." Anonymous said, tipping a ladder over, toppling another, causing Rico and Ric Flair to get suspended in mid-air.

Kane and Mr. America both went to 2 turnbuckles, and jumped. They brought the other 2 down with a resounding crash by grabbing their feet, the titles still suspended. Captain America, seizing the moment, started doing his Hogan-impersonation. Anonymous, with some sense of humor, did the same. They both looked down at the two prone figures, and looked at each other. They ran against 2 opposite ropes, and grabbed hands while they passed Rico and Flair. The way they were positioned caused a major led-drop to both opponents, pretty much eliminating them from the match.

---

Bischoff, still holding a grudge against Stone Cold Steve Austin, was now running down. He was going to win those two belts himself, and take them out with him before he called up Linda McMahon to quit. By this time, Anonymous was still enjoying the carnage around him. He had power slammed Steven Richards through a table as Bischoff slid into the ring in his karate uniform.

Anonymous laughed as Bischoff got in his crane stance. Anonymous turned his body to the side, and stretched his arms and legs into his own stance. Bischoff started messing around, trying to scare Anonymous to back down. Anonymous barely moved, until Bischoff attempted to kick him.

Anonymous grabbed his foot, kicked him in the balls, and pulled his leg, putting Bischoff on the ground. He started to spin around, Bischoff screaming, "stop" at him. Anonymous stopped, much to the disappointment of the fans.

Anonymous looked at Bischoff, and held his hand up in the air. His thumb was sideways. The fans cheered "DOWN!!!"

"Do it, Anonymous." JR said. "Beat the little bastard's ass."

Anonymous' thumb started to rise up.

"No! No, kill him, Anonymous!" King screamed.

Anonymous looked up at his hand, and turned it quickly down. The fans cheered louder than ever. He looked at Bischoff, and looked at a table and a 12 ft. ladder. He started pulling Bischoff up from the other side of the ladder, and made it all the way to the top. He stood on the top, with perfect balance. He got Bischoff in the power bomb position, and jumped up to the very top.

Anonymous jumped forward, his calculations being exactly right. Bischoff wasn't conscious when the cameraman ran up to view the carnage. Anonymous was laughing at the disaster he had made, and stood up, looking for the next victim.


	9. End

The fight was closing down to an end. No one ran out to the ring, the fighting had worn down almost completely. Rosey and Jamal were going for the belts, but were knocked off the ladders by Chris Jericho. He put up a ladder, but when he got to the top, _La Resistance _sent him flying down to the ground. They set up 2 of the 12 ft. ladders, and started to climb tiredly.

Anonymous stood up, stretching his arms. Grenier and Dupre were 1/4 the way up. He picked up a 20 ft. ladder, and set it up outside the ring. 1/2 the way up. He climbed up the ladder, his feet not touching the steps. 3/4 the way up. He stood on top, his balance perfect. As they reached the top, he made his move. Spreading his arms with a face expressionless behind his mask, he jumped up towards the 2 frenchies.

---

Dupre could taste the victory. His hand groped for the belts; his vision blurred by sweat and blood. He would _not_ loose this job or title shot. His hand grasped the belt, but slipped. He felt for it again, and blinked. The vision cleared slightly. He saw what he thought was his personal hell flying at him. He instantly saw his life pass before his eyes. He blinked again, and saw it was Anonymous. _What's the difference?_

---

Grenier saw the same thing, but couldn't do anything about it. His hands gripped the side of the ladder, the thought of jumping escaping his mind.

---

  
Anonymous did the attack just like he hoped. The way he positioned his flight was that, if he was correct, his neck would fly through the belts, and his arms clotheslining the 2 Frenchies. The belts were luckily not connected too tight, and they unsnapped easily from his weight of 375+ (Rico and Flair were not that heavy, and they loosened them for him). "This is for America!" He yelled at Grenier and Dupre as they fell.


	10. Aftermath

It was over. Kane and Anonymous were the winners. Dupre and Grenier quit on the spot, not wanting to have to deal with that monster ever again.

Anonymous went off without being noticed by anyone. He lived up to the reputation he set up for himself, one that goes by unknown or is not known at all.

---

Anonymous wouldn't be seen again until the next episode of RAW, in which he terrorized Theodore long again.

Theodore Long retired soon after unfortunately stepping in a steel cage when leading Rodney Mack down to the ring. Anonymous slammed the steel door shut after yanking him in, and beat the ever loving shit out of him. Anonymous went home happy again.


	11. Epilogue

The man stood in the weight-training gym, talking to the man behind the counter. Actually, he was just listening to a guy that couldn't shut up. The man's face wasn't recognized, as he was wearing sunglasses, but the guy behind the counter didn't care; he just wanted to talk to someone. They were discussing the latest WWE magazine. Anonymous was gracing the cover in the picture when he off the ladder and double-clotheslined Grenier and Dupre.

"That Anonymous guy kicks ass." The guy behind the counter said.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious." The man said. About a minute passed before he spoke again. "But he's better in person."

"You were there that night?"

"No."

"Then how do you know him?"

"I have my ways."

The guy behind the counter looked up at the man, and then down at a picture of Anonymous. "Who are you?"

The man reached into his pocket, and pulled out a sheet of paper. He put it facedown on the counter. "Give this to the next guy that walks in here." He said, and left the weight-training gym.

The man behind the counter looked at the door as the man left, but ignored the card like he had been told.

---

Paul Levesque hid his face in public so people wouldn't plague him for being HHH. Paul Levesque was his real name, but he didn't want to be swormed by people, which usually did. He got exceptionally pissed when teenage girls screamed in his face, which was what he was now trying to avoid. He parked his SUV about half a block away, put on a baseball hat and sunglasses, and started to walk down the sidewalk towards the weight-training gym to exercise.

---

He walked down the sidewalk, and someone bumped his shoulder. He turned around to yell at the guy, but a huge man with a trench coat and sunglasses stared him down. He continued down the sidewalk, and turned into the weight-training gym. He was visiting home, and was a frequent visitor to this place as he lived in the area.

"This was left for you." The guy behind the counter said.

Paul read the note, and his face turned grim. It said:

I am who you are not. I do whatever it is that you don't. I'm the one person you don't want to mess with. I'm the guy that bumped into you as you walked down the sidewalk. This is who I am; I am Anonymous. And you are next.


End file.
